


One Month Mired

by bellarch



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friendship, Minor Character Death, Oneshot, Pre-Canon, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellarch/pseuds/bellarch
Summary: Byleth hates kids. But that changes when an unexpected visitor arrives in Remire Village.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	One Month Mired

Byleth didn't get along with kids.

Her father had once tried to get her to play with Timothy, the son of one of his mercenaries. Jeralt had just taken a mission somewhere in Faerghus and would be away from their temporary home in Remire village for a few months, and he thought Byleth would benefit from having a playmate while he was away. Timothy was two years older than Byleth, seven years to her five. She still broke his arm in two places within an hour. 

The other kids learned to leave her alone after that incident. 

So instead of kids, Byleth spent her time with Jeralt and his mercenaries. Like many rougher types, they knew about exactly three things: fighting, drinking, and sex. Well, her father would show a surprising fondness for books when they were alone - Byleth loved when he would read her stories of long-ago battles, or tell her about new advances in battlefield tactics and weaponry, or even when he would sit next to her and go over the company's finances with her - but she thought that his more scholarly interests were just because _her Dad_ was better than _everyone else's Dads_. But everyone else was a fighter, a drinker, or a fucker. (Her father always told her she shouldn't use that word, but she did it anyway. His little grin told her that her Dad enjoyed it.) And given that she was too young for drinking or fucking, that left fighting. 

Her father had first taken her on a mission when she was ten years old, barely beginning to grow into her adult body. The company had been assigned to eliminate a pack of bandits who had been burning villages in Gaspard territory. She got separated from her detachment of mercenaries amid the smoke and flame, and cut down ten bandits before she found her way to her father's side. The other mercenaries took one look at her, covered in soot and gore, and dubbed her the Ashen Demon. Oddly enough, despite the frightening sound of the name, its growing reputation over the past two years only made them fonder of her. Well, it was either that or her newly developing figure, but Byleth liked to think they were more interested in her reputation than her rear. 

Point was, Byleth was a hard girl who got along far better with world-worn grown-ups than soft, innocent kids. So it was rather a surprise when her father told her that he wanted her to spend time with some new girl who had just arrived in Remire.

"You know that I hate kids, Dad. So why are you making me spend time with one?" she asked her father.

He grunted. (Her Dad did that a lot.) "You're getting older, kid, and you're already helping me run the company. Running the company means dealing with nobles, and they're much more irritating than commoners. These folks are only staying here for a short while, so this will let you learn the ins and outs of noble conduct without making a mess in front of a future employer."

"Alright," Byleth sighed. There was something off about her father's logic, but she wasn't about to point it out. She could never dissuade him when he got it into his head that she needed to do something.

* * *

Jeralt bowed. "My lord Braun. May I introduce to you my daughter, Byleth Eisner."

"Pleased to meet you, your Grace," said Byleth, smiling. She didn't like smiling; she did it to make people happy, but it made her face hurt. But she would do it if it meant making a good impression on her father's behalf.

"We are pleased to meet the daughter of such a . . . renowned mercenary," said the man. He was dressed in a dark cloak - understated, simple, yet of a fine enough make close-up to show that he was no commoner. "I am Count Hector Braun. Lord of a small stretch of farmland on the Brionac Plateau." He gestured to the side. "This is my daughter, El," he said, lifting his hand. In it was clasped the small fingers of a brown-haired girl, wearing a simple red dress clasped around the waist with a white lace belt. 

"I would be delighted to spend time with her," Byleth said, nodding. Thankfully it was difficult for her smile to grow more fixed. The man let go of his daughter's hand, and the little girl stepped forward.

"I'm El! It's nice to meet you, Byleth!" she said as she walked to Byleth's side and took her hand. Jeralt was looking over, so Byleth shot him a glare out of the side of her eye. She was not equipped to deal with this little . . . bundle of sunshine. 

"It's nice to meet you too, El," replied Byleth. _That didn't sound too forced, did it?_ "Your father and my Dad have some things to take care of. Would you like to go play?"

"Yes, Byleth!" El said, smiling. She looked to her father, who just shooed them away.

"I'll see you around dinnertime?" Byleth asked Jeralt. At his nod, Byleth bowed to the two nobles, and the two girls walked away hand in hand. Or rather, El dragged Byleth away.

"So what are we going to play, Byleth?" asked El, looking up at her. Byleth looked over, and . . . something stirred inside her. Something unfamiliar, but good. Something in El's violet eyes made Byleth want to humor her.

"Hm . . ." Byleth said, thinking. Well, it was still early morning and she hadn't gotten her exercise in yet. "Do you know how to fence?"

* * *

"No, no, what the hell are you doing?" Byleth cried, staring at her opponent.

The little girl had needed little encouragement to pick up the wooden sword Byleth handed her when they reached the training ground, but her stance was all wrong. Sword forward but low in one hand, feet pointed just so . . . It was the perfect stance if you were going to fence, but all wrong for the battlefield.

"My fencing instructor always told me this was the correct way to hold a blade-"

"That way will get you killed." Byleth told her. "Stay like you are. Vlad, come here for a second!" A lean, muscled man, one of her father's mercenaries, looked up from his lonely practice exercises and strode over to her.

"What do you want, By?" he asked, leering at her. Or her chest, rather. Byleth had to stop her eyes from rolling in their sockets.

"See her?" Byleth asked, pointing with her practice sword. "I want you to fight me. Like her."

Vlad looked over at El and sighed. "Not again. Why is it that every time you need me I end up rolling around in the dirt? And not even in the fun way . . . "

"Because I'm better than you," said Byleth. "Now go already." 

Vlad sighed, pointed his sword in El's fencing stance, and attacked her with a thrust. Byleth gripped her sword in two hands and dodged, then parried the follow-up swing. Vlad kept pressing his assault, pushing Byleth back . . . until he suddenly caught her foot in the chest during a close swing. A few blows of Byleth's fists later and a sword to the stomach and Vlad was rolling in the dirt.

Byleth turned to the wide-eyed girl in front of her. "And that's why we don't hold a sword like that. Because in a real fight it will get you killed," Byleth said.

"Oh, I get it . . . None of the fencing I learned is going to be useful in combat, is it?" El asked, 

"Nope," Byleth said. "Now you . . ." The girl had already dropped into a copy of Byleth's stance, sword gripped firmly in both hands. "That's good, just loosen a bit. You want to be free to move, use your hands and legs if you need to," Byleth explained. "In a real fight, your only goal is to survive. You don't worry about coming out ugly. You don't worry about whether you look good or not. You just walk away breathing at the end. Whether you run the other guy through or beat him senseless doesn't matter."

"Alright, sure," said El. Her eyes were hard, her mouth set with determination. Byleth couldn’t help but . . . smile? . . . strange, that. "Ready when you are."

Byleth almost started her attack, but something stopped her. "Are you sure?" she asked as she lowered into her ready stance. "You know that you won't win-"

"I'm sure," El said, already charging. _She's surprisingly fast_ , thought Byleth, as she blocked one blow, and then two others in quick succession. _And surprisingly ruthless_ , Byleth amended as El went for a punch with her off-hand unexpectedly. _This will be fun._ Byleth jumped back to avoid El's punch, then blocked the series of follow-up swings. One, two, three . . . _Stronger than she looks, too_ , Byleth thought to herself as she patiently blocked El's sword. _But not good enough._

El made a fast overhead swing and extended a bit too much. "Mistake," said Byleth, and swept her feet out underneath her. The little girl went rolling in the dirt. 

"Wow . . .You're good. I mean, I should have guessed it already, but wow!" El said, smiling, as she sat up. She grabbed her sword and got to her feet. "That was _so cool._ Can we go again?"

* * *

"So, what did you think?" asked Jeralt when they were back in their cabin. 

"Honestly? They're completely shit at hiding," said Byleth, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. 

"Language, Byleth," Jeralt said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Of course you noticed. Anyone can look at their dress and tell that they're no ordinary peasants. And they don't sound like minor nobles, either-"

"-because no minor noble would emphasize that he was the lord of an unimportant place," said Byleth.

"Yes . . . And we've been hired to protect them for the next few months or so," Jeralt said with a sigh. "For much more than any minor noble could pay, of course. I'll have to work on their disguise with them, so I hope you're prepared to spend a lot of time with the kid."

"With El?" Byleth asked. "That won't be a problem."

"Oh, had fun, did you?" Jeralt asked, raising a bushy eyebrow. "That's a surprise. What did you two do, play dress-up or something?"

"We played mercenaries. I beat her up a lot, but she was getting better by the end," said Byleth.

Jeralt hid his eyes in his hand. "Oh, Byleth."

* * *

Not ten days had gone by when someone suspicious appeared in the village. Byleth had decreed the day a rest from training, and so El had dragged her out to the middle of a nearby field. Byleth would honestly rather be reading - or swinging her sword some more, of course - but El insisted, and she didn't have the heart to argue. It was strange, but she couldn't resist the kid when she wanted something. And her face kept hurting . . . along with her chest. It had been enough that she asked Serena, the healer who worked with the company, if there was anything wrong, but Serena said she was just fine. 

Well, apart from the fact that Byleth had no heartbeat. But then again, Byleth had never had a heartbeat . . . 

"Come on, By, focus!" said El, stamping her little foot. "Do I have to remind you of the steps again?"

"Of course not, El," said Byleth. She raised her partner's hands as instructed once again. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes, let's!" El said happily, her usual smile returning to her face. Byleth allowed herself to be led in the steps of what El told her was a traditional Adrestrian waltz. El had told her it was an important skill to know if she ever had to appear at court. Byleth was mostly interested because the footwork practice might help her avoid being hit when she was fighting. _But I would have humored her anyway_ , Byleth thought to herself as she went out in a spin. _I really have a hard time resisting her . . . of course, it helps that she wants to fight most of the time_. She was just coming back when she saw a sudden movement and broke free from her partner. "El, get down!" she hissed urgently. As the brown-haired girl dropped Byleth saw a dark orb coming in her direction. She dodged nimbly, dropping to one knee, then pulled a knife from her boot and threw it. The sudden gurgling sound proved that her aim was true. 

"Stay down. There could be others," Byleth warned as she approached the fallen body. The person looked back at her through a stylized crow's mask. Seeing their struggle to form another dark orb, Byleth pulled out another knife from her other boot and stabbed it through the person's throat. Then withdrew it and stabbed through the eye. Then twisted the blade lodged in the heart and extracted it. Byleth was always thorough.

"Boss! Are you alright?" came a loud cry from the side. Byleth relaxed, recognizing the voice. "We saw someone sneak past here-"

"I'm fine, Vlad," Byleth said, getting up from her crouch and turning to face him. She idly touched her face - she'd need to wash later. "Are there eyeball bits in my hair?"

"There's sure something," said the mercenary. "Want me to get it for you? I'm sure you could use a little help in -"

"I'm sure I can handle it," Byleth said. Her father really needed to find him another employer before she lost her patience and castrated the man. "I need you to take this," she said, jerking her thumb back at the corpse, "somewhere else. Take some guys with you. Then find their friends - with a getup like that there's bound to be more in some sort of weird group - somewhere farther away, and leave as wide of a trail as you can."

"Create a false trail of bodies? Easy enough," said Vlad. He strode over and picked up the body, hoisting it onto his back. "You can tell the captain yourself?"

"Obviously," said Byleth. "You have your orders. Go."

As Vlad left, Byleth turned back to her charge. "El? You okay?" she asked. 

A brown head popped up. "That was so cool," said the girl breathlessly. "Can you teach me to throw like that?"

Byleth smiled. Strange, it was beginning to hurt her face less. "I can try - after I bathe. There's no way I'm going to risk showing my face to your father like this."

* * *

Byleth fell, sword clattering to the side. "Yes! I did it!" exulted the brown-haired girl standing over her, sword point to Byleth's throat. Impishly, she reached forward and tapped Byleth on the chin, before bending over to help her up.

"I'm impressed. Good job, El," said Byleth as she rose and collected her weapon. Truthfully, she was impressed. In only a few short weeks, El's fighting skill had grown by leaps and bounds. _Maybe all that fencing practice_ is _good for something._

El shrugged as she wrapped an arm around Byleth's waist. "I just got lucky."

"In battle everyone is either lucky or dead. Save your luck for when you actually need it," replied Byleth. The two girls stood together, holding each other, swords clutched in opposite hands, in the middle of the battlefield as they caught their breath from the intense fight.

After a long moment, El spoke again. "In any case, I wouldn't be nearly as good if I didn't have you. Thank you, my teacher," she said, violet eyes sparkling. 

Byleth smiled. _Still strange, that._ "Well, you were a good student. And good students earn treats. Do you want something from the marketplace?"

El perked up. "Ooh yes! My - uh, Father never lets me actually talk to anyone here . . ."

"Then we won't tell him, will we?" Byleth said. She took El's hand and, with the girl skipping by her side, began their walk to the village. 

Along the way, Byleth sighed as she glimpsed an all-too-common sight. "There's Josef again," she said, pointing to a man in a nearby field. Despite being half-bent with age, he wielded a scythe to chop down stalks of wheat.

El's brow furrowed. "Why is he out in the field? He has to be too old to be working like that . . ."

"He has no choice," Byleth explained. "His only son was killed in a bandit attack a few years ago, and his daughter-in-law got sick and died last year."

"They couldn't find a good healer?" El asked confusedly.

"Our company was off fighting in a border skirmish on the Brionac Plateau at the time, so our healer couldn't help, and the village doctor didn't have the medicine. And the village didn't have enough money to buy any," said Byleth.

El's eyes narrowed. "They couldn't ask, uh-" she broke off to think for a second, "Lord Arundel or something?"

Byleth tilted her head. "You really think a noble is going to go out of their way to help a mere peasant?"

"But-" El broke off, mouth moving soundlessly and stopping in the middle of the road. Byleth, concerned, stopped with her. 

"El?" she asked as the girl didn't respond.

"It- _it's not right!_ " the smaller girl burst out. She stamped her foot as if to emphasize her point. 

"It's not, but what is in this world?" said Byleth. "People should be able to get crucial medicine they need, but they can't afford it, and the wealthy nobles won't go out of their way to help peasants. People should be able to live without fear of their village being burned to the ground by bandits . . . or petty baronets fighting over an acre of land. People should be able to live out their retirement without breaking their backs to make a huge harvest because some jumped-up lord decided to raise taxes to fund his latest grand ball or whatever. But that's not the way the world is. We can't change it, but we can cut out our place in it. Help where we can. Do our little part to make it better."

"But still, we have to- wait," El paused, breaking off. "You mean that old man is out working the fields because m- Lord Arundel raised taxes?"

"Yes. Early this year," Byleth said. 

El's eyes turned even more downcast. "This is because of me. I have to do something . . ."

Byleth frowned. "No, you don't, El. You didn't do this; you aren't responsible for . . ."

"No, By." El interrupted. "I- I can't explain to you why, but the tax increase is for my sake. These people are suffering _for me_ , _because of me_ -" She broke off with a sob, looking downwards. Hesitantly, Byleth reached out her arms and enfolded the smaller girl in them. 

_This is nice_ , Byleth thought, somewhat surprised. _No wonder I see kids doing this all the time. Maybe I should try this with Dad sometime . . . No, he wouldn't know how to react._

Finally, El looked up to meet Byleth's gaze. "Hear me, Byleth." she intoned formally. "Someday, I will have power. And I will change this world to make sure that no one else has to suffer like this. No matter who or what I have to break to make it happen. Because I have benefitted from their suffering. Because I will have the power to do something about it. _Because no one else will._ " The weight of her declaration, so serious for a ten-year-old girl, hung heavily on the air around them. Byleth felt El's body relax in her arms at her words.

"Thanks, By," said the younger girl. "Thanks for being my friend." Impulsively, she reached up to kiss Byleth's cheek. Then she slumped back into Byleth's arms and began to sob again, uncontrollably.

 _Well, at least I finally found a use for my figure,_ Byleth idly thought, as her friend pillowed her head in Byleth's developing bosom. 

_Now if only my chest wouldn't hurt so much . . ._

* * *

A while later, El had recovered her composure, and she and Byleth were holding hands in front of the village marketplace.

"So, do we eat or shop first?" asked Byleth.

"I'm not sure," El said. "I really want to see what they have, but I'm also kinda hungry from fighting . . ." She trailed off as she saw Byleth pull a red-stained coin out of her pocket.

"Call," Byleth ordered.

"Heads for food!" El decided. The coin spun in the air and Byleth trapped it, showing it to her friend. "Okay, let's go shopping!"

Hand in hand, they walked off towards the marketplace.

As they approached the marketplace, Byleth stopped and turned to El. "So where do you want to go first?"

El tilted her head into her palm, obviously thinking. "I guess a tailor? I don't really know; I've never even been to a market like this before. I don't even have that much money…"

"Don't worry about the money," said Byleth, hefting a heavy purse attached to her sword belt. "Mercenary work pays well, especially when your dad runs things."

"Hm . . . In that case, can we go to the tailor?" asked El. "I'm getting kind of tired of this." She pulled at her simple brown peasant dress, purchased by Jeralt in an attempt to improve her disguise, with a frown.

"Sure," said Byleth. The two girls headed through the town square to the tailor's shop.

"Ah, Byleth. Back again? Does Jeralt need something for a new recruit or something?" asked the shopkeeper.

"I'm here for myself, actually," said Byleth. "I'm looking for something for myself and my . . . friend here."

"Ah, good!" said the tailor excitedly. "What are you thinking of?"

" . . . That," said El decisively. She pointed to something glinting on the side. "Can I see that?"

"Anything for the little lady," smiled the tailor, as he went to fetch it. He returned with a heavy, ornate gold piece. The metal had been shaped into a flame-like shape, accented by a star in the middle and set off by a cute pink tassel. "I obtained this piece from a merchant from the Kingdom. It's supposed to be a sort of good luck charm. I'll warn you, this'll cost a pretty penny . . . "

"We have the money," said Byleth, holding her heavy purse.

"Oh I know," laughed the tailor. "It's a bit extravagant compared to your usual tastes, but if you like it, it's yours."

Byleth paid, and the tailor handed it to El - who promptly handed it to Byleth. "It's for you, By!" she said excitedly. "The flame is a symbol of the Goddess, and now she can be with you wherever you go! Here, come down," she said. Despite her confusion, Byleth leaned down obediently. Edelgard took the string attached to the heavy gold piece and tied it into Byleth's throat guard so that it could hang down freely, comfortably.

"I noticed how you were trying to hide your scar the other day," El whispered in her ear. "This will help." She extended a small finger and touched the very top of the long, straight cut that made its way up Byleth's chest. It always peeked out of her clothes whenever she wore fancy dresses for nobles, and that made people stare. So Byleth usually tried to hide it; they stared at her enough already.

Byleth smiled. "Thanks, El." Then she . . . _Swallowed? What's that in my throat? Why . . ._ Byleth pushed her confusion aside and stood up, turning to the tailor. The man just stood there, watching the exchange between the two girls with a fond smile on his face. "She wants a dress. Preferably not brown."

"I can do that," said the tailor. "If she could step this way so I could get her measurements . . . ?"

* * *

Byleth dreamed that night of a strange battle long ago, and a girl on a throne.

* * *

A few short weeks later, Jeralt came to Byleth in the morning.

"What's up, Dad?" asked Byleth. 

Jeralt sighed. "I don't know how to say this, but . . . "

"What is it? Is there a fight?" Byleth asked, rolling out of bed and grabbing her sword from her bedside.

"No," said Jeralt. "It's El. She's left."

"Left?" asked Byleth. "She . . . " Byleth collapsed to sit on the bed, carelessly letting her weapon slip from her fingers. 

Jeralt bowed his head. "Her father had hired a mercenary escort to Fhirdiad. He said that they had stayed here long enough and needed to continue onto their destination. I'm sorry, kid. If it helps, she was crying her eyes out."

Byleth just sat on the bed, shaking. _No. No. Nonononononono . . ._ "But she was - Now I have - have no -" Byleth closed her eyes and sunk in on herself.

Jeralt sighed and sat next to her daughter, drawing her into him. "I'm sorry, kid. I wish things could have been different. I thought you had finally found someone . . . "

Byleth just sat on the bed, staring at her hands, letting her father run a calming hand through her long hair.

Despite her obvious grief, no tears fell.

* * *

"Serena! How is she?" shouted Jeralt as he ran into the house.

"Relax, sir," said the company healer. She waved a hand, canceling a spell over Byleth's chest. "She's going to be fine, somehow."

"Somehow?" asked Jeralt. "That doesn't sound good."

Serena shrugged. "Your daughter has been a medical mystery since I met her. By all indications, she should be dead right now. Her body shows signs of massive heart failure - but despite her lack of a heartbeat, her vitals are strong, as always."

Jeralt furrowed his brow. "Heart failure? But her heart's never seemed to work in the first place."

"As I said, your daughter is a medical mystery," Serena repeated. "Her heart tissue always appeared to be dead. But when I examined her, it appeared to be alive. Dying, but alive all the same."

"That makes no sense," Jeralt said, holding a hand to his furrowed forehead. "She's never even had a heartbeat -"

"But that's the thing, she does!" exclaimed the healer. "Her heart is fading, but it's beating all the same. It was even stronger when she first collapsed, but it's been fading before our eyes."

"I don't understand. But then, when was the last thing I understood anything when it comes to her?" Jeralt asked with a sigh. "Will she be alright?"

"Most likely," Serena said. "Since her body never seemed to depend on her heart in the first place, she shouldn't suffer any lasting side effects. Don't be surprised if she doesn't remember too much of what happened recently, though; the mind has a way of blocking out anything related to trauma."

Jeralt grunted. "Unfortunate, but understandable." He sighed and sat at his daughter's bedside. "Perhaps it's for the best . . . " he said to himself, taking Byleth's hand in his. "Get well soon, kid."

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank GirthJohnson, who proofread this, offered suggestions, and kindly allowed me to steal an idea from [their story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655063/chapters/59572495). I also should thank Captain_Flash, whose [characterization](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23064598/chapters/55167319) of El heavily inspired mine, and whose writing was the major impetus for me to start writing about Three Houses in the first place.
> 
> This fic came about when I was looking at a map of Fódlan and I realized that almost every plausible escape route from Enbarr into Faerghus passed through Remire Village. Thus I could totally justify El and Byleth meeting each other before canon. From there, everything else just kind of fell into place.


End file.
